


Baby's Breath

by bluesquare



Series: Floriography [2]
Category: Assassin's Creed
Genre: Assassin's Creed - Freeform, Assassin's Creed Syndicate, F/M, Family Feels, Fluff, OC mentions, more tags to come as the fic updates, pregnancy announcement, tiny Henvie babies
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-11-21
Updated: 2015-12-01
Packaged: 2018-05-02 16:36:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,165
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5255564
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bluesquare/pseuds/bluesquare
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A collection of stories detailing Evie and Henry about their marriage and into parenthood. May include other characters. OC mention is likely given the nature of the fic (probably won't be the entire focus of this fic though).</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Mixed Signals

**Author's Note:**

> So I was browsing the henvie tag on tumblr the other night and tadeuszkosciuszkoscoffee (I'm actually not sure if she's on AO3) posted asking if anyone knew any fanfic about Henvie becoming parents/finding out that they'll be parents, and I didn't want to do my paper for philosophy class. 
> 
> So here we are :))
> 
> To that anon who messaged me: thank you so much and I hope you enjoy this too :>
> 
> If you want to prompt me for Henvie or ask about something else, you can contact me here: http://squarelyblue.tumblr.com/

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Henry finds out he's going to be a dad

 

Henry prided himself on keeping his work station clean. Everything was meticulously organized — folders stacked by subject matter alphabetically, marked with the proper codes for filing on a later date; the book trays properly labeled, and there was always gas for his lamps (especially on very late nights) and candles just in case he forgot to put in the requisition order for extra fuel; even his writing equipment was never incomplete and always had spares, something Ned Wynert had to admit was rather impressive in his planning. It was another habit of his that served him well over the year as an information broker, and more recently, the head of operations for the Frye twins.  
  
Well, one of them was formerly a Frye, at least. Nowadays, she went by Mrs. Green, though in private confines of their quarters, she had preferred to being called Mrs. Mir.  
  
The thought alone put a smile on his face.  
  
Despite their impromptu wedding aboard the SS Lady Eagleton almost two years ago, Henry still couldn’t quite believe that Evie was his wife. Even with the gold band resting his fourth finger that had served as his anchor, a marker to prove that it did in fact happen, it almost felt like a faraway romantic dream. Well, romantic enough in the sense that they were assassins. It was rather hard for the quiet affair between family and friends Henry had in mind to actually be a thing, though if he was being perfectly honest with himself, quiet and Jacob don’t exactly mix. The plan was doomed from the start.  
  
In any case, it was curious to see a bouquet of flowers on his desk. In the center most part, highlighted by the warm streak of sunlight filtering from the April day, were bright yellow daffodils and baby’s breath tied neatly together by a bow. His brows furrowed as he drew closer to his table, knowing full well who the sender was. Gingerly picking up the bouquet, he fingered the long stalks and petals, wondering what his wife wanted to to tell him.  
  
_A bouquet of daffodils mean joy, so it can’t be a bad thing. If it were a single stem then I’d be worried, but baby’s breath? Pure love? Or was it ever lasting love? Perhaps innocence…but that seems unlikely…_  
  
He studied the arrangement for more hints, but he couldn’t find any more. No other flowers, no leaves, hell, part of him wondered if Evie might’ve sent a hint in a card. While he was fairly adept in deciphering their meanings, he couldn’t think of anything that might’ve merited a coded message. Sitting himself down, Henry began wondering what on earth did he miss. The flowers definitely were not about business or templar related matters; so it had to be something private. It was not his birthday, that he was sure of, and definitely not their anniversary. _Joy and love? Maybe Evie wanted to send me a reminder? “I’m happy about our relationship,” and no more than that?_  
  
Something in his gut told him otherwise. Evie had never been particularly shy in declaring — in her own way — that she loved him. Normally, if ever at all she felt a little reserved, she’d leave him tiny notes on his desk. From tiny “I love you’s” to “Don’t forget to take a break every now and then,” and he’d respond in kind by slipping his own letters in her pocket. This however, a coded bouquet was for missions and other equally important matters. Something was bothering her and he had to find out what.  
  
Shrugging, the only person to ask was his wife. Passing a few trains down, he found her in her own car, pacing back and forth, with her hands clasped behind her back. She was bitting her lower lip, and practically radiated a frantic sort of nerves. Quirking a brow, it wasn’t at all like Evie to lose her otherwise controlled and calm demeanor. Oddly still, her message had been overtly positive. Why was she so nervous?

“Evie, I, uh, got your message.”  
  
She jumped, her eyes widening in relief and surprise. A faint dusting of pink highlighted her freckled cheeks, as she closed the gap between them.  
  
“Well? What do you think?”  
  
“Something tells me that the flowers isn’t about you reassuring me of your affections. I'm afraid I'm not quite sure what you want to tell me.”  
  
He chuckled, as he reached out to tuck a stray strand of hair away from her face. His warm brown eyes meeting her blue ones, searching for a hint for what she was worked up over. Gently stroking her cheek, he could feel her relax into his palm, as her eyes fluttered at his touch.  
  
“Jaya, sweetheart, maybe you should sit down for this.”  
  
_She used Jaya. This must be serious indeed._  
  
“Are you sure _you_ don’t need to sit down?”  
  
She chuckled a “hmph” before pulling the two of them down onto the sofa. He waited for her to get comfortable, before pressing on. “Evie, know that whatever it is that you have to say—“  
  
“I’m pregnant.”  
  
Henry’s mouth dropped, and he felt his body go rigid. He wasn’t sure if he heard that right, and whatever gods that could hear them now, he prayed that it wasn’t a cruel prank.  
  
“Jaya, I’m pregnant.”  
  
Slowly, a large grin spread across his face as he took her into his arms and gave her the tightest hug he could imagine, before doubling back in making sure that he wasn’t hurting her or their child. There suddenly was an urge in Henry to scream and hug every single Rook (and Jacob) in a twelve mile radius. “I’m going to be a father,” he breathed, “Oh my god, we’re going to be parents.”

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Daffodils are actually a pretty complicated flower and the meanings of it are too many to list but the gist of it is already up there.
> 
> Trivia: it was supposed to be titled Marigolds (because I had it in mind that the baby probably would be born October or some other -ber month, hence the use of October's birth flower) but a friend pointed out how much more complicated it would be to use it.


	2. Morning Sickness?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jacob tries bringing a doctor to his "sick" sister.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello all! I'm so sorry for the late update. It's been rather busy in my university -- I actually opened my first exhibit yesterday, which fortunately was a success -- and I've been meaning to update this in my down time. 
> 
> GOOD NEWS though is that the semester is almost ending, which means that I'll be able to update a little more regularly now. 
> 
> As usual though, if you have any questions/prompts/comments/etc. you can go to  
> http://squarelyblue.tumblr.com/ 
> 
> My ask box is still open so go right ahead :>

  
“Jo, I'm going to have to cash in that favour now.”

Jacob Frye had gone to the Adler home for strictly business reasons alone. But within the span of fifteen minutes, he instead found himself in their sitting room about to have tea. How he got from business to having tea, he had no clue. All he knew was that somehow he was now seated across the young doctor-to-be, whose almost pretty features were scrunched up in disdain for his nickname for her.

“For the nth time, Mr. Frye, it’s _Miss_ Adler to you. And secondly, we’ve called it even remember? You make sure that those _toss_ —I mean men don’t bother us at the hospital and we patch up your people and their families."

There was the reminder. He was dealing with Josephine “Jo” Adler. A spitfire in her own right, as well as someone who often got him in scenarios he couldn't quite explain to his Rooks...or anyone else for that matter. He snickered at her slip in manner. Lord knows how hard she's been trying to curb her tongue.

“Did you forget the wager?”

Jo's eyes widened at the mention. Her back stiffened, and not too longer after her cheeks began to flush a brilliant red. Jacob couldn't help but snicker at how quick her prim and proper facade was crumbling.

The incident in question happened sometime back, after they had discovered that templars had been behind the attacks against the hospital she worked for.  By the end of the week, the attacks were gone and St. Claire's could go about her business, but not without the sole casualty of Jo's pride. 

That particular mission involved a bet, hijacking a templar merchant ship, and alcohol. Lots and lots of alcohol. Jacob chuckled into his tea, allowing the memory to linger in the air. That night had been a good night. The icing on top of the cake however had been when Jo had privately admitted that she had enjoyed that evening. She had made the disclaimer of course that she'd deny it to her grave, but still. He had managed a genuine smile out of her and that was no easy feat.

Though if Jacob was being perfectly honest with himself, he never understood why she was hellbent on keeping appearances. If for the sole purpose of convention and propriety, she had damned that line a long time ago when she chose her career.

 _Elizabeth Garrett_ was her mentor out of all people for Christ's sake.

“Mr. Frye,” she replied, her voice almost chillingly polite as she pointedly ignored his last comment, “the last time you told me something like that was because you thought you were  _dying_  from cholera. And you only had a mild case of indigestion.”

Jacob scowled at her, his mouth tightening into a line, while his companion continued to calmly sip her tea as if they were discussing the weather.  It wasn’t his fault that he thought it was cholera, at least with the scare and everything. That had been what he felt was a lifetime ago, and until now, she still wouldn’t lay it to rest. He rolled his eyes, guzzling down his tea to annoy her.  Jo, however, merely returned a smile — a full cat-caught-the-canary.

“By the way,” she added, “the Rooks still impersonate you from time to time. It’s dreadfully funny. Ask Mr. Bumble, he’s nearly got your hand gestures down.”

“Nigel that bastard,” he muttered under his breath as he took a scone from the plate in front of him. It was still quite warm, with a liberal serving of clotted cream and strawberry jam. He took a rather large bite, getting some of the cream on the tip of his nose in the process, before wiping it away on his coat sleeve. “Why do I even bother,” he said in between mouthfuls, with tiny crumbles flying as he spoke.

Jo raised an eyebrow, before handing him a white lacy napkin. “Oh believe me, Mr. Frye," she replied as she eyed him from top to bottom, " we both have that problem.”

He sighed at her exasperatedly, throwing his arms up behind him, as he reclined the chair. "Look Jo—"

"Miss Adler," she corrected again, as she reached for the milk. Taking a sip, she met his gaze: her dark brown eyes versus Jacob's own. They were at an impasse and they both knew it. Jo continued to mind her own business, casually stirring her tea until and taking the occasional sip every now and then. Jacob drummed his fingers on the desk, as if counting the number of seconds until Jo would give up.  

It was a literal eternity. Neither of them spoke, instead throwing each other an occasional glance — give up. It was only when Jacob groaned that Jo knew that she won this round. Her celebration was short lived however as Jacob then slammed his fists on the table. Jo did not flinch but rather met his eyes.

"Oh for fuck's sake! Jo, listen, Henry has been bringing Evie back and forth to the clinic after having some bout with a stomach flu. I don't know what it is but she's been throwing up like there's no tomorrow. I've gotten her at bedrest for today, so pick up your fucking knickers and let's get going!"

Her brows furrowed tightly as she slammed her teacup back on its saucer. “You bloody pillock! Why didn’t you say so earlier?!”

Jo then scuttled out of her chair and hurried towards the cabinet closest to the door. Taking out a suitcase full of supplies and equipment, she then opened the door, gesturing for him to follow. “Well, aren’t you coming, Mr. Frye? Or do I have to go unescorted?”

Jacob was too stunned at her outburst to even think of a come back.

 

\---

Sometime later they were finally at the station. Jo wasn't sure how they got there in one piece — some Blighters had taken upon themselves to ram their carriage repeatedly until they almost fell into the Thames — all things considered. Jo walked away with her hair in disarray and a partially torn skirt. Jacob, on the other hand, had a few scratches on his cheek and a bullet graze on his arm.

While he insisted he was fine, Jo hauled him into a quiet corner and busied herself patching him up. His arm had been the first to be mended and bandaged, though not without him grumbling all the while. Now, Jo was in the final stages of applying the gauze to the more serious cuts on his face, much to the annoyance and insistence of Jacob that he was fine.

"So," Jo began, trying to take his mind off his injuries, "Where is Mrs. Green? Are we heading to the Curiosity Shop?"

"Are you done yet?"

"No. And you still haven't answered my question, Mr. Frye."

After pressing on a rather deep cut — which earned her a rather loud "ow" and "sod it" — Jacob could only wince out his reply. "If this is an interrogation, you're doing a bloody good job at it."

"Quit being such a baby. I'm almost done."

"You said that ten minutes ago."

"Keeping time are we now?"

"Only because I'm being harassed by a doctor."

Once the gauze had been set, Jo turned her gaze back onto the platform, waiting for the train to arrive. While Jacob managed to smuggle them in — "no need for a ticket," he told her — she was rather skeptical of the whole situation. True, she was worried about Evie. After all, she was one of the few people she considered as a friend, but if she's been and out of the clinic for a stomach flu, especially if Henry had brought her, something definitely did not add up.

"Mr. Frye," she began,  "about...Evie, is it that bad?"

"I wouldn't have come to you if I thought otherwise. I need a doctor I can trust and someone I know who could make the the house call."

"If that's the case, you could've gone to Nightingale. Or Miss Garrett for that matter."

"Getting any of them to come would've taken too much effort."

"Oh I doubt that. Not after what you and your sister have done for either of them."

Jacob turned to reply, but whatever he had to say was cut short. The whistle of their train boomed throughout the station. Quickly closing her kit and tucking it under his arm, he pulled Jo to her feet, almost dragging her as they skidded towards the train.

"Oh bollocks! Jo! What in blazes is in your dress?!"

"That's a secret no lady tells, Mr. Frye!"

"It might be a good thing then that I don't consider you one!"

"I beg your pardon—AAAA!"

Somehow, in the blur of the moment, he had swept her up into his arms before unceremoniously tossing her and her suitcase onto the moving platform before following after. Pulling herself up, Jo glared at him as she smoothed over her skirt.

"Mr. Frye. Next time, a warning if you please."

Jacob merely grinned back, watching her as she tried to keep her balance on the railing. "I'll keep that in mind. Though I'm more impressed that you're considering a next time."

If Jo had been glaring at him before, she was literally planning his death now.

"Speechless, I see? This is a first."

"Oh honestly—"

And as if on cue, Henry had opened the door. Eyeing both Jo and Jacob, and the general mess they both were in; he quirked his brow to greet them. "Jacob? Miss Adler?"

 

\---

Somehow, in the span of two hours since meeting Jo, Jacob was in his second awkward session of afternoon tea. His sister and Jo were seated across him and Henry, and the silence had been suffocating for everyone involved. Evie was paler than usual — though from being sick or from irritation, no one knew — Henry was quietly contemplating the situation, as if waiting for the right moment to lay his diplomacy skills onto the table, and of course, Jo was idly stirring her cup, trying to ignore the tenseness of it all.

"Jacob, can you, erm, explain why you brought in Miss Adler?" Henry began gently.

Jacob looked incredulously at his brother-in-law. "Greenie, my sister — _your wife_ — has been sick for the past week now! You can't honestly tell me that you don't think something's wrong!" 

"So...you didn't get the message," Evie said quietly, as if more to her cup than to anyone else in the room.

"What message?"

“Didn’t you get the flowers,” Henry asked. His brows knitted in confusion as he poured Jo more tea — to which the young woman politely thanked. Jacob, on the other hand, seemed to purple with embarrassment and confusion.

“The flowers were from you? Bloody hell, the boys gave me grief for that. Especially Nigel.”

“But you did receive them?”

“That bouquet of baby’s breath? Yeah. But how in Grim’s name was I supposed to know that meant _something_ , you know, _not_ romantic?!”

“Actually Mr. Frye, it’s a current trend around here. While yes, flowers are exchanged between couples as some sort of secret code; it’s quite useful for slipping in other useful notes and messages between people. I’m actually more surprised that you don’t use it.”

Jacob glared at Jo who seemed more concerned with sipping her tea. Passing him a knowing smirk, she then gestured to the cakes in front of him, “Cake?”

Evie might’ve snorted in laughter if she was in a better mood, but her blue eyes were lost in thought. Drumming her fingers against the table, she then looked at Jacob, “Did you see the card?”

“The one with a drawing of a congregation of _pudding_ huddled together? Which by the way still doesn’t make any sense with the description of ‘unbaked bread.’”

It was then that Jo’s mouth dropped. Grasping both Evie’s hands, she gave them a gentle squeeze before turning her gaze to Henry before turning it back to Evie.

“Oh my word! Congratulations to the both of you! You’re not very far along are you?”

“How long has she what? Evie? Greenie?”

“Well,” Evie began, not even listening to Jacob’s question, “we just found out recently ourselves, so…yes.”

“A little help here? Anyone?”

“Have you gone shopping yet? I know a few mothers who could help find a bassinet that wouldn’t cost too much.”

“We haven’t yet,” Henry replied with a smile, “but thank you so much for the offer—”

“A BASSINET?”

The three of them quirked their brows at Jacob, who seemed more distressed than confused.

“Don’t tell me you haven’t pieced it together yet,” Jo stated more than asked, “Evie and Henry are _expecting_.”

“Jacob…you’re going to be an uncle!” Henry then clasped Jacob’s shoulder, shaking him gently, as he grinned. However, what ever joviality Henry had immediately dropped as soon as he saw the blank expression of Jacob’s face.

“Jacob?”

After a moment or two of silence, Evie spoke, “Are you…all right?”

Without missing a beat, Jacob replied, discomfort and horror quite evident on his handsome features: “You guys had _sex_.”

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this piece actually was quite difficult, and I'm publishing this for the most part un-beta'd. But having said that, this piece took a life of its own :)) Jacob and Jo had a significantly smaller role in earlier drafts but alas the two demanded for more writing time and look at the out come. 
> 
> The message that Henry and Evie were supposed to give was that Evie was meant to be part of "the pudding club" which apparently was an idiom during the Victorian era for a pregnant lady. Also, the reference of "unbaked bread" was for the word "dough" which also was another word for pudding, hence the message. 
> 
> [Admittedly researching this took longer than I expected and in general British slang]


End file.
